


Come Home to Me

by iwritewords_sometimes



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 09:21:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4999339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwritewords_sometimes/pseuds/iwritewords_sometimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky share their bed, their lives, their breakfast. A small glimpse into their day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Home to Me

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for rachel, because sometimes I need to apologize for the many many sad headcanons. This can be read as Steve and Bucky in a relationship, or jut general bros being bros.

Steve had never been particularly good at cooking or baking or being in the kitchen in general. When he was younger, his mother had tried to coax him into learning the family recipes. Sarah Rogers herself was quite the cook. It seemed to Steve that she could take any simple ingredients and transform them into something special. Steve mostly just boiled potatoes.

     Needless to say that when Bucky and Steve moved in together, twenty two and twenty one years old respectively, living in a shoebox apartment and sharing a bathroom with the floor, it was Bucky that did most of the cooking. It didn’t hurt that Bucky’s mama routinely stopped by with vegetables for stews and extra flour for bread. Steve was grateful, if not somewhat annoyed; he had known Bucky’s family more than he knew his own relatives. Mrs. Barnes’ loud tutting as she stacked their chipped dishes on the counter was familiar.

     Bucky woke up early in the morning. He stumbled bleary eyed out the door to the washroom down the hall to wash the sleep from his eyes. He returned with his suspenders clipped twisted and his socks untucked. Steve watched him from the bed; safe in the warm dip Bucky’s body had left. It was Tuesday, which meant Steve had no work and Bucky was stuck with a double shift. Their schedules didn’t match up very well.

     “Want me to make you breakfast?” Bucky asked, as he wrestled with his suspenders.

     “Eggs,” Steve demanded.

     “And oatmeal?”

     “Do we have any honey?”

     “I think so,” Bucky shrugged. He opened the cupboard and moved some jars around. “Just enough for one.”

     Steve grinned, “You’re too good to me, Buck.”

     “Now, Steve,” Bucky tsked. “I never said it was for you.”

     Steve pouted, pulling the blankets up to his eyes.

     Bucky laughed. “I’ll make you a breakfast fit for a king. If I get that bonus the boss has been harking about for the last week, we’ll have honey every night.”

     “You should pick up tarts on the way home to celebrate.”

     “Is that all you think about? Food?”

     Steve pushed aside the covers and sat up. “Yes.”

     “Get out of bed, lazy bones. Come eat your eggs.”

     They ate breakfast together and then Steve helped Bucky style his hair, taking time to run his fingers through it until Bucky swatted his hands away. Steve smoothed Bucky’s shirt, making sure it was tucked in correctly to hide the small holes at the hem.

     Bucky finally had to take a step back. “You’re going to make me late.”

     “That’s the plan.”

Steve hated the days when Bucky left the apartment before the sun even rose and didn’t return until well after it had already left the sky. He knew Bucky was taking up the extra shift for a friend of theirs whose wife was in a family way, so it was for a good enough reason but that didn’t make the weekly absence any easier.

Bucky brushed his knuckles against Steve’s cheek. “I’ll be home tonight. You have a good day at work.”

“You too.”

Bucky grabbed his jacket and was out the door before Steve could distract him even more. Steve huffed and looked back at the bed, wishing to just fall back into the blankets. He knew he had a lot to do today. He had to resist the allure of extra sleep.

It was close to midnight when Bucky arrived home. He stepped lightly on the stairs, hoping that his clunky boots weren’t too loud as he entered the room. He expected it to be dark and was ready to blindly shuffle his way to the bed, but the lamp was on and the table was set and Steve was slumped over in his chair.

“Stevie,” he breathed, as the crossed the kitchen and tapped his boyfriend’s shoulder.

Steve shifted in the chair and rubbed his eyes. “Damn. I’m sorry,”

“Don’t be sorry,” Bucky shushed as he took in the shepard’s pie and cabbage and a strawberry pie with lopsided lattice crust. “This looks great. Thank you.”

“It’s probably cold. I don’t know how well it’s gonna taste.” Steve yawned so wide Bucky could hear his jaw crack.

“It’s my fault for being so late. God, Steve did you even eat?”

“I was waiting for you, jerk.” He pulled the plate closer and heaped himself a spoonful of potato. He bent his head and folded his hands in prayer, but he didn’t waste time saying anything out loud before he tucked in.

Bucky sat down beside Steve and piled cabbage onto his plate. Bucky was exhausted; before he walked in the door all he wanted to do was curl next to Steve in bed, stick his nose behind Steve’s ear and wrap his arms around the blond’s chest, but seeing this spread- pushing the very boundaries of Steve’s culinary abilities- he wanted nothing more than to eat it all and possibly cry.

It was good. The potatoes were a tad lumpy, the cabbage could have used more salt, the pie was tart enough to make Bucky pucker his lips. But he loved it, he loved Steve, and Bucky knew he would suffer through pans of potatoes for the punk.

He was reaching for his glass of water when he realized Steve had fallen asleep again, just narrowly missing smashing his face into his plate.

The food would keep in the icebox until morning. He piled it all together and put it away, before returning to Steve and carrying him to bed.

Steve automatically curled into the blankets; it was intuitive as he pulled Bucky down beside him. Bucky didn’t even bother changing his clothes, just cuddled in next to him. Tomorrow was Sunday, which meant early Mass and brunch at Bucky’s parents and telling Steve he didn’t get the promotion that had been dangled in front of him like a carrot for weeks. Tomorrow was another day, so tonight he held Steve close and held him tight and slept.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed ~  
> find me on tumblr (steverogersspeaksfrench)


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